


Silent Night

by youreyestheyglow



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 14:43:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youreyestheyglow/pseuds/youreyestheyglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat sees snow for the first time</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Night

“The fuck is he wearing?” Karkat asks disbelievingly. “Is that what all human fuckwits wear? I didn’t see anyone dressed like that today.”

“Dude. Did you miss the entire beginning of the movie? He was an _elf_. That’s literally the entire _point_ of this, that he’s got the personality of an elf but he’s actually human. He doesn’t realize that he’s not supposed to wear that.”

“I don’t even come from this weird-ass planet and I know what to wear!” Karkat’s voice is rising in pitch, and you grin. You can’t remember the last time Karkat was calm for more than five seconds at a clip.

“Hey, people wear different clothes here,” you point out. “I have got to take you more places, out of the country, so you can see what people wear. It’s like a fucking kaleidoscope of colors in some places and this awesome –”

“What is _that_?” Karkat shrieks, pointing out the window.

“What is what?”

“Something white just floated past –”

“What – oh.” Another snowflake drifts down. “It’s just snow.”

“What the fuck is snow?”

“Dude, breathe,” you say. You arm is around his shoulder, and you bend it so that you can rub his horns gently. You’ve found that it’s like a calming switch for them – or maybe just for Karkat. You’re really not sure. It would make sense, though; having sharper horns means that if an enemy tries to calm you down you can end up hurting them, making it more difficult for them to hurt or disable you, which would be why Karkat gets made fun of for his nubby horns. You think they’re cute. You’ve told him so. He flushed bright red and told you to go fuck yourself with a cactus. “Did you not have snow on Alternia?”

“No,” Karkat says, voice calming. “Stop doing that. You can rub my bulge if you want to rub something.” He says it quietly, but you stop, running your hands through his thick black hair instead. “What the hell is snow?”

“Snow is water, but partially frozen. Like, not ice, but not water, either.”

The snow begins to fall faster. You stand and drag Karkat with you to the window. “Look up,” you instruct, pulling off your shades and pressing the bottom of your chin to the window so you can get a good look. Karkat does the same next to you, and he stills.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” The snow looks like it’s falling on you, a whirling vortex of silence and peace.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Not unless you get stuck out in it for hours. I mean, it’s cold. But it’s not like, acidic or something.”

“Oh.”

You glance over at him. His eyes are wide, and his lips are slightly parted, and he looks awestruck and adorable and beautiful, and you lean over and kiss him gently on his cold lips, tasting the doritos you’d been snacking on. He kisses you back for a moment, tongue lazily swiping at yours, before pushing your face away. “Get off me, dickfucker. I was watching the snow.” But it’s halfhearted and calm and you laugh.

“Wanna go outside?”

He pulls his face off the window. “Can we?”

“Yeah, I told you it wasn’t dangerous.”

“Oh.”

You watch him as you pull on boots and a jacket. He’s quiet, peaceful, forehead smooth and not wrinkled with anger or annoyance, not chewing on his lips, probably calmer than he’s ever been in his life, and it’s abso-fuckin’-lutely adorable.

You can’t believe he’s never seen snow before.

You take his hand and lead him outside, and he throws his head back and relies on you not to let him fall, staring up at the grey sky and watching the fast-falling snow; your boots are already crunching on a soft layer of it, and judging by the rate at which it’s coming down, you’re going to get several inches tonight. A flake lands on his face, and he flinches. “It’s cold!” He says, and for once he’s not angry, just surprised, and you grin.

“Yeah. I told you that, didn’t I? Snow is frozen water.”

He ignores you, not even deigning to glare at you, and you don’t mind, because it means you get to watch him undisturbed. He pulls off one of his mittens and holds out his hand, catching snowflakes and bringing them up to his eyes before they melt.

“Every snowflake is different, every single one.”

“They’re so tiny!” He exclaims in wonder, and you see a tiny open-mouthed smile appear on his face.

“You can catch them on your tongue, too,” you say, sticking your tongue out. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Karkat do the same, and he grabs your arm when he loses his balance in his quest to eat a snowflake.

“It doesn’t taste like jack shit!”

“Yeah, you moron, it’s water.”

He catches another one. “I take back everything I said about this planet, Earth is the best.” He’s pulling you around with him, refusing to let go, and you don’t have time to warn him when he steps on the ice-covered septic tank lid and slips, squeaking as he drags you down with him into the snow, and you’re immediately thankful for the two inches on the ground for softening your landing.

“Did you just squeak?” You cackle.

“Shut up!” His face is red and you can’t tell if it’s from the cold or if he’s blushing, but either way his yellow eyes have caught sight of the snow again, and he’s forgotten about you, and it’s incredible, how you took snow for granted and forgot that to some people it’s something amazing and new.

You’re just as intrigued by Karkat’s facial expression as he is by the snow, and you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of looking at him, of examining the familiar face you love, and you lie there on your back next to him as the snow falls around you, watching his eyes follow the snowflakes as they drift down, and slowly, slowly, his eyes shift to you.

A corner of your mouth twitches up into an apologetic smile; he’s probably going to yell at you for staring at him.

But he doesn’t.

He moves closer to you, presses his lips to yours, and his lips are freezing and coated in snow but that doesn’t matter, you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of kissing Karkat, of knowing that this douchebag who hates everyone loves you; you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of knowing that the secretive, prickly, sensitive, pushy, angry little fucker chose to trust you, chose to kiss you, and is currently parting his lips as you trace them with your tongue, warming them and melting the snow that had settled there.

He shifts so that his head is resting on your chest, your arm around his waist, and you watch the snow and listen to him breathe, gently, calmly, the way he only ever does when he’s asleep.

“Dave?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?” You snort. “I didn’t exactly make it snow. I control time, not the weather.”

He pokes you in the ribs. “Way to ruin the moment, you stupid sack of maggots. But no. That’s not what I was thanking you for. I was saying thank you for… I don’t know. For coming out here with me and staying out here with me. Thanks. For doing stuff like that.”

You find his hand and squeeze it.

He keeps his fingers wrapped tightly around yours.


End file.
